


Throbbing to the Beat

by LucianRafaello



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions, Pokemon - Fandom
Genre: Dry Humping, M/M, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, failed masturbation agitates hypersexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22540546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucianRafaello/pseuds/LucianRafaello
Summary: Altru can't help but leave the concert early to scratch an itch. When that fails him, it turns out someone else left early, too.A short drabble.
Relationships: Nezu | Piers (Pokemon)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 19





	Throbbing to the Beat

Altru placed his hands at either side of the slender floor length mirror that haphazardly rested on the bathroom tile, tilted up just right for him to catch a glimpse of the look on his own face. It was beaming red and his pupils were dilated so very wide. His body throbbed with each quickened heartbeat, swaying the waterlogged curtain of hair that hung to his right and flickering droplets of conditioner slickened droplets all over the place. He’d never had to see it to believe it; if someone told him he looked like a ravenous Mightyena, it would have made a world of sense to him.

Nothing - absolutely _nothing_ \- turned him on harder than Piers doing a gig.

Nothing - and sincerely, **nothing** \- satiated him, either. He had tried _everything_ under the Galarian sun to get off in the shower: fingering, rubbing, utilizing the extension showerhead (that he had recently installed for such purposes)- nothing was doing it. Not a single thing could scratch the itch.

And maybe it was the fact that the entire time, he was fantasizing about Piers’ slender fingers doing their magic, or his silver tongue working at every inch of his skin. Whenever he’d see the hickeys on his thighs as he struggled in the shower for climax, the memory crackled in his head like thunder. Since their first time having sex, it’s become abundantly clear that no matter what he would do to relieve himself of his newfound libido, Altru couldn’t experience the same euphoria again without his boyfriend’s part in it.

What a curse of a blessing.

Well, he was at least clean, even if he was drowning in waves of rapture every time his clingy sweatpants rubbed at the inside of his thighs. Altru ruffled his long green locks in his towel to get out most of its moisture, then draped it about his neck to keep any from dripping down his back and dampening his favourite oversized Luxury Ball t-shirt. The resulting mess of hair was decidedly acceptable for what would be a horrible night’s unrest, and at last emerged from his cocoon of steam into the cool hallway of Piers’ apartment.

Down the hall, he could hear the telly flicker between channels; Marnie wasn’t home, was she? He had to duck out during the last song of the performance lest he lose his mind (that’s the excuse he’d use; it _definitely_ wasn’t so that he could masturbate while listening to the vocals), and she hadn’t called to let them know she was coming home, but now that he thought of it…

...There was no sound otherwise. No more guitars, no drums, no Toxicitries blasting their sounds, and certainly no singing.

Altru shuffled down along the carpeted hall, and sure enough, there was the long, undone black and white tresses of Piers draped over the back of the couch as he surfed the movie channels, looking for some schlocky horror flick to unwind to.

_What was he doing back so soon? Doesn’t he unwind with his crew afterwards? Is he feeling okay?_

Before he knew it, he was already standing behind the space on the couch his boyfriend occupied, looking down at the top of his sweat-ladened hair from his hours of singing. He could see in one of his hands he had a fresh-brewed cuppa to soothe his vocal cords- _dammit, he was waiting to clean up after the show! And surely there’s no more hot water!_

Now he was busily formulating the right thing to say to make up for the travesty; what a horrible partner he was!

Without much to do to make the situation better, Altru leaned down and slung his arms over Pier’s shoulders and let his hands hang around his slim midriff while his chin found a comfortable spot on the right side of his face. He pecked a soft kiss to his jawbone before the singer could even turn to see him.

“Sorry.” Altru managed to squeak out, looking absolutely pitiful. “I didn’t think you’d be back before I was done.”

“S’alright. Wasn’t feelin like’ hangin’ around after the gig.” Piers returned the kiss to the corner of his lips, then inhaled deeply the scent of his body wash as he let go of the tea mug and slipped a hand up the wide opening of Altru’s left sleeve for a brief moment. “Yer body heat’s doin’ wonders for me, though.”

“Aha, maybe whatever water’s still in my hair can make up for the shower you can’t take.”

“Now that’s an idea.”

“Eh?-”

He didn’t mean it, but the next thing he knew, Piers had turned to his side, arms curled around Altru’s neck, practically dragging him down onto the couch. If he hadn’t grabbed the back of the couch and repositioned himself, the trainer would’ve gone headfirst into the leader’s lap (not like he would’ve cared) and probably snapped his neck (again, a fine way to die), but he thankfully swung a leg over the cushions and crawled over the furniture to a safe landing on the other side. His still-sopping tresses mopped over Piers’ face, neck, and tank top the whole way down, thoroughly dampening his pale skin in the process.

Altru didn’t have a second to readjust, however, before an onslaught of heavy-pressed kisses peppered at his slightly agape lips. His hands felt around for some sort of anchoring: first it was a belt, then a shoulder- once he had figured out where things were, the other hand found the neck and managed to comb his fingers up to the back of Piers’ head.

The intensity of the kisses burned brighter as Altru managed to settle into a more comfortable space over Piers. Their hips pressed flush into one another, legs woven between each other, hands groping at every curve they could reach. Something like a growl escaped the green-haired man’s breath as he felt a pair of palms grip squarely on the curve of his ass- bringing him roughly down along the thigh that he was propped against - in turn rutting his own thigh to the tightly-packed hard-on hidden beneath magenta skintight trousers. A cacophony of animalistic sounds erupted as the two wriggled and rubbed against each other, a lack of breath intoxicating the two in the suffocating display of a snare-like kama sutra pose.

Their tongues finally met between the gaps of their meshed lips, making up for the contact lost as they took their limited gasps for air. Saliva trickled out from the corners of their mouth, down their chins, and finally onto Piers’ sweat-smothered performance clothes and collarbone. Only on occasion could their eyes crack open a little and sneak little glances at one another’s ragged expressions; Altru was especially lucky to see that his boyfriend’s stage makeup was being washed away by perspiration, and the vivid blush beneath it was starting to reveal itself.

And that was the inspiration he needed to grind his pelvis down into the hard-on against his body, creating a groveling moan in the punk star’s repertoire of noises. The exposed skin just over the waistband of his sweatpants could feel a spot of moisture forming.

“Mhhh, you tease…” Piers sang, taking one of his hands and slipping it into Altru’s pants. “And what’s this? Naughty boy... no knickers?”

“It’d be in the way.”

“Yer damn right.”

The kissing resumed with renewed vigor, this time encouraged heavily by the heavy petting underway; a slender fingertip teasing against a moistened entrance, a palm pressed to the head of a clothed erection. The song of sounds grew louder and louder as their heads began to spin with the avalanche of intimacy. Their hips bucked down desperately against one another’s touch to eke out that little bit of motion that’d send them crashing down, neither of them daring to tease the other and draw out the suffering.

It was when Altru rubbed a thumb over the dark spot of his trousers that Piers met his climax, separating their lips to moan wildly while thrusting his groin up into his lover’s hand and coating it in gradual layers of cum, slickening his once-clean palm with the sticky substance that pearled through the fabric.

The man hovering overtop smiled smugly with success; it wasn’t a contest, but it was always a riot to see that he - in all his hypersexual hunger - hadn’t been the first to hit nirvana, and managed to bring his partner to orgasm first. He watched as Piers lulled back peacefully, his spasms settling down. Little pecks were peppered along his neck, evolving into red tooth marks of lovebites and a few faint purple circles of hickeys.

“Ohhh, I needed that…” he sighed, lifting his head back up so he could press a kiss to his love’s forehead. Altru purred contentedly.

“I’m sure your own shows get you tense.” he agreed and brought their lips together once again for a chaste kiss.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneakin’ off, dove.”

“So you saw?”

“It’s impossible to keep my focus when I see you running off in a hurry; my soul was weepin’, ‘where’s my darling off to’?”

During his melodrama, he had brought the hand that cupped Altru’s ass up and tightly curled his arm around his waist, as the hand deep within his sweatpants began to furiously prod and dip into Altru’s slick snatch.

“But I know what you were doin’, love.” he sang in tune to his captive audience’s pleasure-addled sighs, “You got hot, too, didn’t you? You got drunk on the scene, hypnotized in the heat of the thrill. You were wishin’ it was you I was holding, not my mic stand. I wonder if you’d let me do this in front of my gang.”

He had two fingers knuckle-deep by the time Altru’s voice became incoherent and tears bubbled in his eyes, lost in the fantasy painted in his mind. He couldn’t press back- hell, the wind was being knocked out of him from how closely he was being held. All Altru could do was helplessly hide his face in the crook of Piers’ neck and wriggle feebly until the fingers inside of him withdrew and finally swirled around the swollen clitoris, putting the final nail in the coffin of his night of frustration. Fourty-five minutes of futile shower foreplay ended at the hands of his significant other, as his curtain of vision blanked to a hot, bright white.

===

“Hey, you alright?”

“Nnuhh…?” Altru’s breath seemed to finally come back to him as his vision restored. He felt his whole body tingle with signals as he tried to sit up, greeted by the sight of Piers licking his finger clean of what he could only presume was the result of is own victory.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yeah’.” Piers chuckled and sucked off his middle finger.

“Mmngh… Bless you for not budging me to wash your hands.”

“I’m not an Arceus-fearin’ man, but I also wouldn’t waste a good meal.”

The couple finally pried themselves apart long enough to assess the damage done to their clothes: Piers’ trousers were utterly soiled by his orgasm and he was surely going to have to wash his belt and glove, but Altru was surely the worst off- his freshly-donned sleepwear dampened with his and Piers’ cum were going to have to be changed and washed prematurely. The cum on his own hand was beginning to dry, so it wasn’t much of a shame to smear it on the side of his sweats to get it off.

What mattered was that they were satisfied, for the time being.

“Well…” Piers sighed as he shakily stood up and stretched, then extended out a hand to his love, “Guess I can finally get that shower in. I’m betting this will be a regular thing for us, won’t it?.”

Altru smiled and took it, “It’s a safe bet to make.”


End file.
